You were there for me.
When he didn’t meet me at the playground, you were there to balance the seesaw by sitting on the other side as if we both were weights on a triple beam balance.
When he dumped me for another girl on the day when I was supposed to be happy and grateful around my friends, you stepped in and gave me a hug.
When I cried over him over the weekend after that big sh*tshow, you messaged me to see if I was okay.
I was there for you.
When you told me that the girl you loved didn’t seem to be interested on your relationship going any further than friends with benefits, I led you out of it.
When you felt worthless every time she left you on inbox or on read, I’d reply fast to at least make it up even though I wasn’t her.
When I found out that you were as broken as me, I gave you some of my pieces to fix you.
No, I didn’t want a relationship after everything that happened, and I bet you didn’t want one too. But somehow, the universe entwined us together. We were slowly falling in love over the break hangouts, the sitting-next-to-each-other-in-class, and the thought of what we could be. Or maybe we were just vulnerable enough to love again, just to feel belongingness.
Everyone thought it was pathetic.
“They feed on each other just to feel the love they failed to feel from their ex lovers,” they would think.
Our exes were affected. And so I thought that maybe that was your plan; to get the attention of that girl you loved so much. I wanted to get back to my ex too, that’s for sure. I was happy because I thought we were on the same page, so I ignored my feelings for you.
Until the day you told me you loved me. God, you were so vulnerable that time. I was too, but at least I was thinking straight; I just got out of a doomed relationship!
But I loved you too. Was I really going to afford to lose you like my scumbag ex?
After awhile we got into a relationship and I was happy. Giddy, even. Not all of your friends and my friends accepted the fact that we were together, which affected me at some point, but you’d always assure me that they don’t matter. “No one can stop our love,” you’d say.
Then came the day when I actually found out that you had a manic side.
We were two different people.
We were brought up by our parents differently.
You liked partying, the thought of sex, doing drugs, all that “fun”. You were liberated.
Meanwhile I was the virgin who went home straight from school to study at home that everyone found to be precious and rare. I was conservative.
Our differences made me think twice. Being the perfectionist I am, you could say that I didn’t only want a perfect relationship; I wanted a perfect partner. Believe me, you were. In a way.
Sometimes you were even more of a mother to me.
You were very possessive and it pissed you off when I didn’t reply fast. You started to become demanding. You were always jealous of the guys I talk to, even my guy friends.
I lost half of my feelings for you. I broke up with you.
Of course, I broke you. I shouldn’t have done that.
I still loved you after all that, I just hated that committment and its demands. It was tiring.
On and off, we were like a switch. Or a flickering bulb that was worn out.
Until suddenly, everything felt off. You didn’t show that much effort anymore. I was trying to turn on that bulb you kept shut, but it just seemed broken already.
It’s all fun and games until someone falls in love with someone else.
And that’s exactly what our fate got us into.
Now you ask me if we could still be friends. You think it’s that easy for me? I lacked a lot of traits that you might’ve wanted present in the relationship, but one thing’s for sure, I never stopped loving you, and I never lied to you.
You tell me you love me, but you don’t mean it. I hate this.
I hate how you’re okay while I’m here crying.
I hate how you moved on from our past while I hadn’t.
I hate how my heart is aching while yours is probably beating fast because of excitement.
I hate how you’re not there for me anymore, while I still am here for you.
I hate that I still love you, while you’re out there loving someone else.
You were there for me. Until you weren’t anymore.
P.S: This is for you KT.